


i will tell your mother how you saved my life, i will tell her you were a hero

by hcrlaws



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Soft and Fluffy, alannys is alive fuck d&d, alannys is soft mother, bran does care for theon, sansa deserves a mothers comfort, theon’s still dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 11:49:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20638688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hcrlaws/pseuds/hcrlaws
Summary: The Harlaw’s come to Kings Landing with Yara during 8x06.Sansa and Alannys finally meet and talk about Theon.





	i will tell your mother how you saved my life, i will tell her you were a hero

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably one of my favourite things I’ve ever written. One fic gave me all of my rights and I love that. I loved exploring Alannys and the other Harlaws, and of course having Sansa and Alannys having that bonding they deserve.
> 
> Just before you read, please know I love the Stark’s so much. Anything harsh toned in this fic 100% is just because of the Harlaw’s who aren’t fans of the Starks, Lannisters etc etc. But Sansa is not Ned so Alannys and her are soft together and it’s canon.

The tension in the air was already set high as soon as Sansa had stepped out of the wheelhouse, into the ruins where Kings Landing once stood. Sansa did not mourn for the city that smelled bad, nor for the people that had cheered for her father’s execution, but she did mourn for the innocents that had been lost in the process. 

Everyone sat around the meeting area, Bran’s wheelchair to one side of her and Arya sat beside him. Brienne was there, Davos as well. She recognised a lot of faces that arrived, apart from five. 

It wasn’t hard to figure out that one was the Prince of Dorne. He was handsome, as all of the Martell’s were. He sat with pride, but with a slouch in his posture, showing he did not want to be there, and was not that amused with why they had to be there. 

The news of the Dragon Queen’s death had hit people just days after it had happened. Sansa would be lying if she said she wasn’t happy with the death, or who did it. Daenerys and her had not been friends, but she oddly had respected the woman who brought her armies and dragons to fight for Winterfell. Even if Sansa had never got to tell her personally.

The other four, Sansa did not recognise, and by the looks of it, not many of the people sat at the meeting did. It did not take a lot for Sansa’s eyes to drop down the woman’s armour and see the Kraken carved into it, a lump now stuck in her throat. 

Yara Greyjoy. Theon’s elder sister. His only sister. 

She walked with her arm held out like a man would hold his arm out for his lady wife. The only man of the four did the same with the smaller lady, quietly chatting between themselves in whispers of the Iron Islands tongue that no one was able to understand but them. Theon had arrived to Winterfell as a child speaking the same tongue, the words were not a different language to the language that Sansa and the rest of the Seven Kingdoms used, but they spoke harsh, cutting the words off with their teeth and tongue. They spoke like pirates. That’s what her mother would say. 

Yara’s arm was taken by another woman, walking at a slower pace and taking her time, body hunched over, long white hair falling down her shoulders and stopping at her waist. Her hair was styled in braids like the other woman, whereas Yara’s was just pinned back from her face. 

They took their seats, Yara and the man holding the chairs out to let the two ladies sit first before taking their spots beside them. Sansa took notice on how Yara took the older looking woman’s hand, and held it tightly in her grip, whispering into her ear almost soothing the woman. 

Everyone’s attention was then grabbed by Tyrion being brought out in chains, but not Jon. Comments were thrown from her, from Yara, and then from Arya threatening Yara. The two women opened their mouths to comment back, but the man’s lifted hand stopped them. 

“Lord Harlaw… It’s a great honour to finally meet you.” Tyrion’s voice stopped the arguments, all eyes focusing onto the kind looking man, who sat with a book placed in his lap. 

“Lord Tyrion. I’ve heard so much about you, we all have. My apologies about your family.” The man’s voice was soft spoken, always kind, but there was still something there by the way he apologised for the deaths of the Lannisters, like he never meant what he said. 

Tyrion pretended to take no notice to the laced sarcasm in Lord Harlaw’s voice, and instead, found his eyes going to the woman with white hair, who held her head with pride, narrowed eyes locked onto him. 

“Lady Alannys, my deepest regrets about your son… He was a fine man.”

“Really? I would not know.”

Everyone went silent, not knowing what to make of the woman’s bite back. Even Tyrion seemed a little speechless, which Sansa had never witnessed. Yara leaned forward, awkwardly clearing her throat.

“Sorry about my mother. She is taking my brother’s death hard.”

The air left Sansa’s lungs and she was sure she even heard Arya suck in a deep breath. Tears brimmed Sansa’s Tully blue eyes, threatening to spill over the surface at the mention of her lost friend. 

The meeting continued after that, and Bran was chosen as King of the Seven Kingdoms, or it was seven until Sansa managed to speak up, and gain the North’s independence. She could see that Yara was biting her tongue, itching to make a comment, but it was the woman who spoke again for her daughter.

“And what of the Iron Islands? Do we get independence as well? We have fought hard and long for our independence. Families lost. Children lost. My daughter was promised independence by Daenerys Targaryen and I will not leave until we leave with that promise fulfilled. I do not care which Queen or King it comes from, so long as it happens.”

Yara almost seemed embarrassed by her mother’s outburst and courageous tone. The other Harlaw’s, sat with a smirk on their lips, pride shining in their green eyes as they looked between their sister and Bran. 

“And what of the reaping? The raping? Will that continue, and who will sit on the throne?” Bran’s eyes turned to look at Alannys, and Alannys only. It was like no one else was there and they were having a private conversation. 

“My daughter will sit on the Seastone chair. For generations it has always been a Greyjoy sitting on that chair and you could not ask for a better Greyjoy, your grace. As for the reaving and raping, Yara made a promise to Daenerys Targaryen that that would all stop in order to get the indepedence and we would continue to keep it banned. My daughter nor my family follow the old ways that her father did. Most of the Islands hate the old way.”

No one moved. It was like no one breathed as they waited for the decision that Bran would make. 

“My sister has never bent the knee to a Stark and she will not start now. Grant the independence and we can be allies. Do not and keep my sister as an enemy like you have for over ten years. The choice is yours.” There was a velvet, almost musical sound to the other Harlaw’s voice as she spoke up in defence of her sister, but the word ‘Stark’ was spat from between her teeth each time she said it. 

Giving the Iron Islands their independence had never been a good thing in the past, not when Balon Greyjoy was the one who sat on the Seastone chair. The man was a pain. The man was vile to his own children, that much she remembered hearing from Robb. Not giving them the independence could start a war, or another rebellion. And one look at Alannys Harlaw, the pain that was in her cold stormy eyes, Sansa had made her choice where she stood. 

“Grant them the independence, Bran. Theon died for you, now do this for him. He’d want the peace between our families.”

Arya nodded her head in agreement. 

“Your son was my brother, Lady Alannys. But he also brought my family pain. My brother Robb specifically. But your son… He fought for me in the battle against the dead. All the Ironborn who came with him did. He was the last man standing, and he faced the Night King, and bought my sister the time to arrive and end it. I will grant the independence of the Iron Islands. For Theon.”

The Harlaw’s all cheered, standing to embrace one another and have a moment between them. Gwynesse kissed her sisters cheeks and then did the same to Yara. 

“May I present Yara of house Greyjoy. First of her name. Queen of the Iron Islands.”   
  


Sansa found herself at the gardens at the Red Keep later that day, or what would have been the gardens before. Some of the benches still stood, half broken from the heat of the dragon’s breath. While walking around, her mind drifted onto Margaery, her old friend who she spent may days in the gardens with. 

The roses in the gardens had always reminded Sansa of Margaery. Every time Sansa saw a rose, her mind went to the rose herself. But now those roses were dead, burnt and ashes on the ground. Much like Margaery herself was. 

While walking through, she stumbled upon Lady Alannys sat down looking out onto the water, the same spot that Sansa used to come to pray, or later just to get some peace and be alone. 

“Lady Alannys. I didn’t expect to find you out here alone… Where are your siblings? Where’s Yara?”

The woman turned to look at her, a distant look in her eyes. She turned back to look at the sea, scooting over on the bench to allow Sansa to sit with her. Which she did. 

“I told them I wanted to be alone for a while. Yara is off celebrating, my sister is sewing as usual, my brother reading. That man will die with a book in his hands, I tell you that, child.”   


A smile tugs to Sansa’s lips as she looks out onto the water as well, taking a deep breath of the salt and wind that came off of it. The wind moves around her plaited hair, doing the same to Alannys. Her eyes were closed, focusing on the sounds of the waves. 

“I like to imagine there had been gardens here before Daenerys Targaryen burned it all down.” 

Sansa had nodded. “There was. Gardens full of roses.”

Alannys had hummed, eyes dropping to her lap. She had a cloak placed across it, the golden kraken stitched into the black cloth. It had been Theon’s cloak.

“I don’t excuse the murder of innocent people, your grace. Those innocent people did not deserve to die, not for the pain that Cersei Lannister had brought to the Dragon Queen. But I understand her pain… Losing the people you love can be very painful, make you think and do irrational things.”

Sansa’s eyes locked onto the cloak as well, nodding her head a little. 

“Have you ever felt… like doing something like Daenerys did?”

“Once. Fifteen years ago I wanted to get onto ships and come across to the North and burn down Winterfell. I wanted Eddard Stark dead. Wanted his head on a spike and his body hanging from my window like a banner.”

Sansa had to keep her mouth shut, and just listened. Though it hurt to hear someone speak of her father like this, to hear them speak of her father and want him dead, want to hang his body up for everyone to see, she knew if someone was to take one of her loved ones from her, she’d want the same.

“But I had people. I had my siblings, I had my daughter. I had people there to support and stop me from doing such things. I could not… harm so many people, harm your entire family for the involvement of your father. But that girl? Daenerys? She had no one. No one to stop her and tell her to not do that irrational thing. And perhaps she regretted it after she had done it, but it was too late, and now we shall never know.” She gave a little shrug, and the silence was there again. Sansa tried to process what the older woman had told her, letting it sink in. Her eyes eventually found themselves back out onto the water.

“The sea reminds me a lot of your son. Every time I see it since… I just- can’t stop the lump that comes into my throat. I see him in the waves… I see him out in the training yard at my home… I hear him in the corridors… I see him in you.”

Alannys eyes were on her when Sansa opened her eyes and allowed hers to meet the older woman’s. Though Alannys and Theon did not share the same eye colour, they most certainly shared everything else. The curls that were framing Alannys thin face reminded her of Theon’s curls. They had the same nose, lips, and the same smile. 

“I never got to see Theon again. The Theon in my mind was a little boy…” Alannys voice trails off, distant and away in her own mind. Sansa wondered what Theon had been like around his mother. Theon before had been arrogant and annoying, and then he was the man who killed her brothers, and then he was the man who saved her from a monster. 

Sansa didn’t know Theon who loved his mother so dearly. 

“He was an amazing man, m’lady. Well, not always. Growing up with him, he was arrogant, annoying… a total ladies man. I suppose all boys his age were. He wanted to be a man so badly, wanted to be older.”

A chuckle came from Alannys who turned her body to focus on Sansa, clearly interested in learning about her son and the man he had become. 

“I was never close with Theon growing up. He used to pull at my braids a lot, always made fun of me for believing in love and wanting a knight and listening to all the songs. Theon had my brother, Robb. They were connected at the hip. You never saw Robb without seeing Theon coming up behind him… But my brother died, and Theon wasn’t there. Theon, blamed himself a lot for that…” 

She decided to not bring up the wrongs Theon had done to her family. She was sure Yara or someone else could tell her. Sansa decided that Alannys just needed to hear the goods of her son for now. And Sansa had lots of goods to tell. 

“I’m glad my son had your brother, dear. I was worried he’d be alone. He was such a shy child.”

Alannys shocked Sansa by taking her hands into her own, her wrinkled fingers brushing across Sansa’s knuckles as she continued to speak.

“I was forced to marry this man once… Ramsay Bolton. That’s where I met Theon again after so many years. Ramsay was… cruel.” 

Alannys sighed, tutting and shaking her head as she squeezed the young wolf’s hands in her own. “Many men are cruel. My husband was cruel as well. Don’t tell anyone… But I never mourned him at all when he died. I poured myself a glass of wine and smiled instead.”

The two giggled, almost like two little girls who had been friends for years. Sansa felt a strange comfort from speaking to Alannys and having her hands held. Alannys was motherly, it was in her bones and in her blood. She was motherly even to the child of the man she hated. 

“Ramsay was the worst. Not just to me, but to Theon as well. And yet… your son still found it in himself to save me. He saved me from Ramsay. He even wanted to sacrifice himself to save me.”

Alannys was tearing up at this point, and Sansa hadn’t noticed that she had been crying as well, the older woman’s hand coming up and brushing a tear off her cheek. 

“Y-Your son saved me so many times and he- he showed me what love was. He was the only person who truly understood what I went through and I lost him. I lost your son and I couldn’t give him back to you and I am so sorry, m’lady.” 

Sansa’s sobs were loud as she collapsed into the embrace of Alannys, feeling the frail arms that came around her, She felt something else wrapped around her, and opened her eyes enough to see it was Theon’s cloak. Sitting up and wiping her tears, Alannys offered a smile.

“Thank you for telling me about my boy, your grace. I know he will always look out for you. He will always be here.” She points to Sansa’s heart and then her own, before standing and walking off, leaving the cloak wrapped around Sansa.   
  


She had managed to catch them just before the ship was ready to leave. It wasn’t hard to find the large ship with the silver scythe flying high and proud. She was clutching it tightly in her hand, her other hand holding up her skirts to make it easier to run.

“Lady Alannys!”

She woman turned, eyes widening as she saw the Queen running towards her, clutching a bow in her hand. 

“Your grace.” The Harlaw’s all bowed out of respect. 

“I- M’lady you left me with your sons cloak the other day, and you never asked for it back… and I really do appreciate you giving me that. So I wanted to give you something back.”

She held the bow out to Alannys, watching as the woman’s gloved hand wrapped around it and brought it close. 

“It was Theon’s bow. He never left anywhere without it. I want you to have it.” 

Alannys did not speak, tears filling her eyes as she ran her hands across the smooth wood and against the string, pulling at it as a sob left past her lips, hands reaching out and bringing Sansa in for another embrace.

“Remember what I told you… He will never leave us. I won't ever leave you either. Just write me a letter whenever you wish you chat, or if you want to come visit, you are welcome. You are  _ family _ .”

Pressing a kiss to Sansa’s forehead, she turned and walked towards the ship, clutching the bow to her chest as her siblings followed behind her. The ship left the dock and Sansa did not move until she could no longer see the silver scythe. 


End file.
